


Running With Wolves

by WinterXAssassin (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes - mentioned, Dark Past, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), I Love You, Lots of shit goes down, Love, Nat is surprisingly not so fucked up as Steve is, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Pregnancy, Protective Natasha Romanov, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Red Room, Romance, Romance - eventually, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve is Fucked Up, Torture, Trust Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unplanned Pregnancy, Why can't I stop writing Nat pregnant with Steve's baby?, maybe it's all the fluff idk, this hurt to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7785010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/WinterXAssassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers. Captain America.<br/><em>The living legend.</em></p>
<p>But he's not the man everyone thinks he is. Underneath the surface - under that fake smile that never meets his eyes, Steve is hiding a dark, torturous past. His mind holds secrets. He's damaged, and broken... nobody would want him.</p>
<p>
  <em>Until her.</em>
</p>
<p>Natalia Romanova. The Black Widow.<br/><em>The Russian ballerina - or spider, some say.</em><br/>A mystery, and an enigma - and a woman with some secrets and a dark past of her own.</p>
<p>When they meet... Things happen. Things change. And neither of them are sure they'll ever be able to go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Calm Before The Storm

**A/N: A Romanogers fic featuring a PTSD-ridden Steve, and a spider!Natasha. Or, the one where I started a new story when I have so many others in progress.**

**Oh, and the line-up of the Avengers is different. It stands currently (and yes, this is set in 2013, post-Avengers, Thor 2, and Iron Man 3) as:**

_**Steve Rogers/Captain America** _  
_**Sam Wilson/Falcon** _  
**_Thor_  
** **_Clint Barton/Hawkeye_  
** _**Tony Stark/Iron Man  
** **Bruce Banner/Hulk**_

***shrugs* Enjoy!**

 

**Updated: 13/9/2016 - A link to my tumblr post which has the art for this story:[Running With Wolves cover art](http://mchorse14.tumblr.com/post/150335512604/this-is-the-cover-art-ive-gatheredmade-ehh-not)**

* * *

Steve glanced around the Quinjet, anxious to get this mission over and done with as fast as possible. He usually liked going on missions - just something to take his mind off everything else - but he didn't feel like it today. He'd slept like shit last night. Nightmare after nightmare... and most of them involving HYDRA, since that was the mission he was partaking in - destroying a HYDRA base.

Sighing, Steve scrubbed a hand over his face, smothering a yawn. _Best not to think about that now, Rogers_ he reminded himself sternly, _It's time for the mission. Forget. Focus._

"You okay man?" Steve's teammate, a friendly African-American former Pararescueman named Sam Wilson, asked, glancing over at the blonde with a concerned expression. Steve met Sam's gaze evenly, shrugging. Sure, he was close to the man codenamed 'Falcon' due to his wingpack, but he wasn't about to share every waking thought. The man just wouldn't be able to cope with hearing what Steve had been through.

"Suit yourself," Sam muttered, turning to Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye, a fantastic archer with brilliant eyesight. "How long out?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer." Barton responded, though Steve saw him push the Quinjet to a slightly higher speed.

Steve looked around at his other teammates - the billionaire genius playboy philanthropist (self-titled, mind you) Tony Stark, known as Iron Man, the boisterous and friendly Asgardian (more like alien) named Thor, and the quiet, brilliant-minded Doctor Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk. Stark was looking at files on a tablet, Thor was boredly tossing his hammer - Mjolnir - from hand-to-hand, and Dr. Banner was quietly observing everyone, as Steve was. "Rough night?" the doctor asked, his brown eyes meeting Steve's blue.

Sam might've been the VA counsellor, and the person Steve was closest to, but for some reason, it was often the mild-mannered doctor whom Steve spoke to about his constant nightmares.

"Just a bit," Steve answered, sounding less tired than he really felt.

Doctor Banner opened his mouth to offer some advice, but just then, the Quinjet landed and Barton ordered everyone off. It was time for the mission. As Steve walked down the ramp, the doctor gave him a "we'll talk therapy later" look, and the soldier nodded, before stepping into the bright sunlight, squinting a bit. "This is Russia?" he asked, listening to the snow crunch under his feet as he turned back to face the Quinjet.

Barton nodded. "Pretty much. Cold, snowy... kind of not the place you wished you'd die if you chose to die on a mission."

* * *

Natalia Alianovna Romanova. _Russian ballerina_.

A stunning, red haired, green-eyed Russian woman, of about 30 years of age, gracefully walked through the halls of the Russian HYDRA compound. She was the picture of pure beauty and grace, yet underneath the surface lurked a deadly spider waiting to strike.

_The Black Widow_.

As she smoothly stepped into the computer room, she frowned upon seeing five rather oddly-clothed men fighting their way into the base as she gazed at the nearest monitor. She couldn't help the smug, cruel smirk that curled her lips up, green eyes glinting with challenge. "And who are these men?" she inquired, turning to the nearest security guard.

"The Avengers, apparently. That's what they call themselves, anyway. You saw the footage for the Battle of New York, correct?" the guard responded.

"Ah. Well then, send out the rest of the men. Spare no expense at stopping these Avengers. But don't kill them; I need them alive." Natalia instructed, and she turned on her heel to go and find some weapons. She heard the guard's murmur of assent as she left, and then heard him speak into a walkie-talkie.

_Perfect_ _. Just the type of men I need to lure into my web_ she thought.

* * *

Something had gone wrong, and now Steve was pissed. HYDRA, as it so turned out, had created an EMP-firing gun powerful enough to knock out Stark's suit, Sam's wings, and any other technological devices the team had, and they were all rendered useless. More agents had suddenly poured out of nowhere, and now the Avengers were surrounded, assault rifles trained on them.

Upon hearing a rather light set of booted footsteps, Steve's head snapped up from where he'd been staring at his own boots, startled to see himself staring at a slender, red haired woman dressed in a black leather catsuit, guns strapped to holsters on each of her thighs. Her full, plump lips were painted blood red, and downturned in a frown. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you men can walk in here, steal information, and walk out alive? Oh, you poor souls. You’ve walked straight into my web.” Her Russian accent was thick, and her green eyes piercing as she stared at the captured Avengers - staring into their souls, it seemed.

Steve growled, waiting for just the right moment to strike - to get away. “And who the hell are you?” he demanded. He was the leader of the team, and when he wanted answers, he got them. His baby blue eyes, sharp and narrowed, were keenly studying the Russian woman, trying to work out who she was, and why none of the HYDRA soldiers seemed to be making any moves to lock the Avengers in prison cells or kill them.

The redhead smirked, her green eyes seemingly staring into his soul. “Ahh. The good-hearted Captain America. How noble of you to lead your team into battle… and how tragic to lead them to their untimely deaths.”

Steve sneered at her, visibly bristling when she called him by his old title. _Who the hell was she? How did she know who he was?_ “And what makes you think that, Widow?” He'd overheard one of the soldiers mentioning something about "the Widow is coming; she'll tell us what to do with the Avengers", and seeing as this Russian was the only woman about, he had guessed that she was the so-called 'Widow'.

The Widow just continued to stare at him, folding her arms across her chest, looking smug. “It’s simple. I am the Black Widow. No man escapes my web.”

* * *

**A/N: Boom! Cliffhanger! Ooh, did I or did I not just do that?**

***whistles innocently***

**Anywho, leave a review, and stay tuned for more!**

 

~~**Oh, and...** ~~

~~**It turns out I've run into a spot of bother.** ~~

~~**I'm working on chapter one for the sequel to _I Didn't Want You To Be Alone_ , but the new story needs a title!** ~~

~~**So please, pretty please, dear readers, would you kindly drop me a line with your suggestions for the title? The winner gets to have a special shout-out in the author's note in the story!** ~~

~~**Thankyou!** ~~

**^**

**|**

**|**

**Thanks to Phoebe_Snow with your title suggestion.**


	2. Breakdown

**A/N: So surprised to get chapter two up already, but hey, when your brain is on a roll...**

* * *

 

Steve knew it was useless to struggle against the Vibranium-laced handcuffs as the Widow stalked towards him, her green eyes daring him to challenge her – to try to escape. So he sat on the bed in his cell, pliant and unresisting, even when she yanked his chin up so that he was looking directly into her eyes.

“Captain,” she began, voice husky and smooth, and her tone was enough to be borderline seductive if the situation were any different in any way whatsoever. “You do realize just who you have run into, correct?”

“No idea,” he ground out, hating the smug air about her. Hating the way she moved and talked and _looked_ – like she was some kind of model, when in fact, she was simply a deadly assassin and nothing more. Hating the fact that it was _his fault_ that he and his team were even captured in the first place.

The Widow stepped back, and began to pace the cell as she talked. “You see, Captain – I don’t work for HYDRA as you may think. In fact, I’ve recently defected from the KGB. But... As of late, I have been looking for... jobs, as they say. Good, paid work. You know, like the normal men and women of this world do. The work I do now... it is not so nice. Torturing people. Killing them. Seducing men to get information. I tire of that. I want a new start. It might seem surprising to a good man like you-...”

Steve growled and stood from the bed quickly, instantly angering at those words. “A good man like me?” he scoffed, “ _A good man, like ME_? What makes you think I’m so good and pure and noble and golden? Believe me, Widow, I’m not.” When he finished his little outburst he sat, calm again, rather amused by the stunned expression on the Widow’s face. “Continue,” he said plainly.

The Widow composed herself easily, like Steve’s outburst hadn’t even occurred at all, schooling her face into a neutral expression, and then she went on. “...It might seem surprising to a man like you that an assassin like me no longer wants to do the kind of... dirty work that I currently do. And seeing as you are the leader of this team, well.... I am simply asking you... that perhaps I could join your ranks? Do as you do – save the world, and all.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, studying her. “And how do I know you’re not just making up some ploy so that you can steal information from us and use it against us?” he asked in a cold, detached tone.

The Widow seemed surprised at that. Her eyes widened just a fraction, and her lips parted – to Steve, it looked like she was struggling with what to say. “I didn’t... I...” She promptly turned on her heel and left the cell, the door slamming shut behind her.

* * *

 

Hours passed. Steve had heard no sight nor sound of the other Avengers. And the Widow had not returned. He must have fallen asleep at one point – when he closed his eyes to think, it was still early morning, given by the window to the outside world. But when he opened his eyes again, it looked to be late afternoon.

Finally, the door to his cell opened again, and the Widow strode in, looking cool and composed. She silently ordered Steve to his feet, and unlocked his handcuffs, before leading him out of the base, right back to the Quinjet.

Steve was the last one, it seemed; everyone else was aboard. As he walked up the ramp, the Widow followed him, and he put an arm out to stop her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m coming with you,” the Widow answered, and she sounded so unsure and so young that it stabbed his heart – the one he thought he’d long forgotten – and he dropped his arm, letting her follow.

“Fine, but don’t cause any trouble. Or you’ll be dealing with me.” he said gruffly, taking a seat in the Quinjet.

“I’ll keep to myself,” the Widow said softly, sitting down nearby – _too close for comfort! getawaygetawaygetaway!_ – and she kept to her word for the rest of the ride back home, staring to her boots and looking so much smaller than she had carried herself before.

* * *

 

Weeks passed. Natalia – as the team had long learned the Widow’s real name – seemed to fit in okay. She barely interacted with the others, but somehow, had slowly found herself gravitating towards Steve. And he found himself drawn to her. Neither understood why – but there just seemed to be a magnetic force drawing them towards each other.

They weren’t exactly friends, per se, but Natalia spoke to Steve the most often – moreso than the other Avengers. Even Clint, who was an assassin like her; someone she could relate to... even _he_ did not talk to Natalia as much as Steve.

Today was just one of those regular days. Steve was sitting at the common area’s dining table, flicking through a sketchbook, and Natalia was reading some kind of paperback on the couch nearby. Suddenly a memory hit Steve too hard, and he lost it. He pushed back his chair so roughly it fell over with a crash, and the sketchbook fell to the floor with a flapping of pages.

He whirled, eyes wild with rage and self-loathing, and Natalia glanced up from her book, startled and wide-eyed with something like fear.

“Rogers, what is the matter?” she asked, speaking gently and calmly – something completely _unlike_ her that it took her by surprise. But she shook that surprise off, dog eared the page, and stood up, walking to Steve with slow, measured steps.

“Too much,” Steve’s lips were peeled back from his teeth in an angry snarl, and he looked like he wanted to hit something.

Natalia knew she had to get Steve calmed down, _quick_ , before he broke anything. She wrapped her hand around his bicep, and with a lot of coaxing and cajoling on her behalf, managed to get him to take the elevator to a large, well-padded room filled with many easily breakable items – including at least half a dozen punching bags, much to her surprise.

Steve raged at first, throwing things and having a good punch at the walls, but then he did something so completely out of his routine it threw him off. He collapsed to his knees, face in his hands, sobbing. He’d never cried before. Not for a very, very long time.

Natalia stared at him, stunned, and before she could even so much as _think_ , she was kneeling before him, tucking his face into her shoulder and running her hands through his hair. “Shh,” she hushed, “It’s okay. It’s okay to cry.” And she let him. When the broken sobs had ceased, and though he still trembled, she took his face in her hands so that their eyes met, and inquired, “What has been done to you?”


	3. What's Done Is Done

**A/N: Oo, chapter three! Beware for angst, and lots and lots of... nasty stuff. And brief mentions of rape. Poor Steve.**

**Flashbacks are in italics.**

* * *

 

Steve looked at Natalia with teary eyes, and drew in a shuddery breath. “Do you really want to hear what’s been done to me?” he questioned, his voice raw and hollow-sounding.

“I would like to know, yes,” Natalia requested softly, seeing so much pain in the depths of his eyes. “Things that nobody would ever want to hear about have been done to me, also. If you tell me about you... perhaps someday I shall tell you about me. Is that a deal?”

Steve nodded, heaving a sigh. “Alright. Deal.”

* * *

 

_It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Steve had ordered the Commandos to split off into ones and twos, and to head off in all directions to cover as much ground as possible._

_What a mistake that turned out to be._

_Out of nowhere, a small platoon of HYDRA soldiers attacked, and Steve was helplessly outnumbered. Supersoldier sure, but all he had was a shield and a pistol. That was no match for the platoon. He was quickly overwhelmed, and dragged into the back of a truck with a split lip, a cut on his forehead, and a gunshot wound on his arm where a bullet had grazed him._

_In just one week, Steve had been tortured so badly he could scarcely stand, and he was half blind in one eye._

_They whipped him, they water boarded him, shot him, stabbed him, burned him, drugged him._

_And then they would experiment on him._

_Let him heal, and then do it all over again._

_And oh, the lies they fed him as they tortured him._

_“They’re not coming back for you.” CRACK! “They’ve forgotten about you. Why wouldn’t they? They’re in the middle of a War, after all.” SNAP! “Do you really think they ever cared about you?”  pounding of fists on flesh "She doesn't love you. Why would she? You're nothing but a mindless soldier."_

_Steve was strong, oh-so-strong, but with all the lies and the torture and the experiments... it became too much. His will broke. He believed they were never coming back for him._

_Finally, the Commandos came, and they left not a single HYDRA soldier, scientist, or general alive._

_Bucky had to practically carry Steve out of there, but he was alive, and that was all that mattered._

_Steve’s body gradually healed. The longest-healing injury was a limp that lasted for another five days afterwards._

_But his mind... That didn’t heal._

_He never told anyone why he frequently woke from nightmares, sweating and panting and wild-eyed, looking for something to choke or to punch._

_Never told anyone why he’d jump every time he was approached too suddenly, or from behind._

_Nobody ever asked, either._

_Sure, he told Bucky – but he never told the Sergeant everything. He just couldn’t. Bucky had been through enough as it was himself, and to add to that by hearing what Steve had been through... It just wasn’t something Bucky needed to hear. Or Steve wanted to share._

_He kept to himself. Put up a front; put on a brave face, and carried on._

_But when he lost Bucky, he was crushed. He’d lost the only man he’d ever considered a brother. And he was the one to blame._

_Peggy had tried her best to comfort him, but her efforts had had little effect. He was still so bloody miserable..._

_When the time came for Steve to go after Schmidt, he did so with a vengeance. And without the will to live. He crashed into the Arctic Shelf, not caring that he wasn’t going to live. Not caring that he was leaving Peggy behind – she had pretty much left him after he had broken, anyway._

_Once he awoke, in the 21 st Century, he immediately hated himself. He didn’t want to be alive in a time that wasn’t his, in a world that wasn’t his, where everyone he ever knew was dead – he’d wanted to die saving the world._

* * *

 

Natalia stared at Steve in shock, now seeing this broken young man in front of her, instead of a hardened soldier and Captain. Her green eyes burned with tears, and her heart ached in a way that it had never done before.

And Steve had simply worn out from speaking and crying, and fallen asleep in her arms. She looked so peaceful; she didn’t want to disturb him.

She kissed him on the forehead, surprising herself yet again, and remained vigilant, waiting for him to wake.

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, Steve had woken up, and Natalia had managed to coax him to lay down in his room.

“Don’t trouble yourself. Nobody is going to hurt you again.” she assured him softly. _Even if that means I have to protect you myself, then I will_ she added mentally.

Steve looked at her with those hollow, dulled blue eyes, shifting under the blankets, and she thought he had something else to say. So she perched on the edge of the bed, ready to comfort him again if needs be.

“That wasn’t all,” he said, surprised at how _relaxed_ he was with her around. Swallowing heavily, he went and told her what he hadn’t told anyone – not even Bucky. “I... Um... There were a couple of female scientists at the base, and uhm... Well... I was tied down, and drugged, and then they...”

Natalia suddenly seemed to figure out what he was struggling to say. “They raped you, didn’t they?” she questioned, still speaking so softly, and when he nodded weakly, she said something else. “I know what that’s like. In the Red Room... where I was trained... where I was raised... many things were done to the 28 girls that were there. Including being raped. They told us that it was to... accustom us to the ways and manners of men.” Her voice had quietened by this time, and her gaze dropped to her folded hands in her lap. “I was eight the first time. And he... one of my trainers... he was so big... so rough... I was bleeding by the time he was done.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve offered quietly, not really sure what else to say.

Natalia let out a quiet, bitter little laugh, shaking her head. “There is nothing to be sorry for. What is done is done. It is in the past.... and the past is something I do not ever bring up.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like,” Steve replied, and then the two settled back into a strangely comfortable silence.

After fifteen minutes, Natalia broke the silence by clearing her throat. “You need to rest. And I have... things to do. I’ll see you around.”

Steve nodded, laying back on the bed and getting comfortable. “Yeah. Sure. And, uh... thanks.”

Natalia shrugged, and walked out of the room without a sound. She didn’t know why she had told the Captain some of her past; nor did she understand why he told her what had been done to him. But as she had said, _what is done is done_ , and she could therefore not take back what she had told him, nor he take back what he had told her.


	4. Camaraderie Forged, Lost

**A/N: O-kay! Things are happening now! I’ll leave you guys to figure it out ;)**

* * *

 

_Jab, jab, jab, jab, jabjabjabjabjab, THWACK, thud._

Panting, Steve wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand, and hung up yet another punching bag, ready to destroy it. This was his fifth so far; it was only 4 am... and he hadn’t slept a wink. Again.

“Damn it!”

Unwrapping his hands, Steve flicked off the lights to the training room, and took the elevator up to the common area. He padded into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, downing it. His mind was abuzz, once more preventing sleep. Not that he needed as much sleep as a normal human, but hell, a guy couldn’t keep running on fumes. Eventually he’d run out of steam, and pass out in a team meeting or something like that, and then questions would be asked.

_No way in hell that’s happening_.

Oddly, as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, for some reason, an image of Natalia flashed in front of his eyes. Why, he didn’t know, but he had no control of what memories came and went. He stood stock-still, absently rubbing his elbow, and let his mind take him back to two weeks ago, when Natalia had given him her first real smile.

* * *

 

_“No, I don’t look like that,” Natalia chastised as she studied the sketch Steve had done of her. “My eyes do not look that... full of life. And I don’t smile. Ever. Smirk, yes, but smile I do not.” She seemed unhappy as she pressed the sketchbook back into his outstretched hand._

_Steve had the guts to actually shrug at her, shutting the sketchbook. “I just draw things how I imagine them in my mind, sometimes,” he said honestly, and he’d be damned if he didn’t think that facing an army of Hulks wasn’t scarier than the look on her face right now._

_“What, so you think I look like a smiling, happy, NORMAL person, do you?” she all but spat, green eyes like fire._

_Steve, instead of shrinking from the face of her anger, stood his ground, staring her down. Normally that would have incited challenge, but it was different this time around, for some reason. “Yes, Natalia, because in my mind – and in the flesh – you are a beautiful woman. And I don’t just mean to look at. You have courage; fire. Your beauty isn’t just in the flesh, but in here.” And then he stepped forward, placing her hand on her chest right above her heart. Both of them felt the electricity at the contact, but neither moved._

_Natalia was stunned; completely taken aback. It was clear that she had NEVER heard those kinds of words before – not from anyone. “Steve... thankyou,” she said, and her voice was so quiet, so soft, it came out as barely a breath. And then, to Steve’s amazement, and her own surprise, she smiled; a tiny, rare thing that quirked the corners of her lips up, and softened her usually sharp, hardened features. Her green eyes sparkled, and her cheeks went a rosy pink._

_Steve laughed softly, patting her on the shoulder as he passed her to head to the elevator. “There’s a smile. And you’re welcome.”_

* * *

 

As Steve came back to reality, there was a small dawning of realization upon him – Natalia was almost his _friend_ , the first true friend he’d had in over a decade, and he felt himself strangely drawn to her. _A sense of camaraderie – she was scarred, like him_.

He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips – the ghost of the true smile he’d had and lost so long ago – as he thought of Natalia. She had made a silent vow to protect him – he had seen it in her eyes – and she had made known her vow to help him heal. And, oddly enough, as she’d confessed to him the other day, he was helping her heal too. The little talks they’d shared helped, it seemed.

“Penny for your thoughts, Capsicle?”

_Typical. Of course Stark would be up at four a.m. – the man was an insomniac and could often be found awake at odd hours, drinking coffee and muttering science-y things aloud._

Mentally rolling his eyes, Steve turned from the window to give the inventor a dirty look.

“Whoa, geez, okay... no need for the Glare of Death.” Stark held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“How many times have I told you? _Don’t_ call me _Capsicle_.” Steve spat the hated name out like it was poison. Hell, it was, in a way. The stupid nickname brought back too many memories, and besides, he’d taken that ice nap to save the world. So.

Stark shook his head, reaching for his mug of coffee. “Right, yeah, okay, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

Steve just sneered at the older man, and padded over to the elevator, intent on heading to his suite. His good mood spoiled, his momentarily-softened features had once more hardened into an impassive mask, and his eyes no longer sparkled. Though he knew Stark hadn’t seen him, and he was grateful for that.

* * *

 

For about the fifth time since she had come to stay at the Tower three months ago, Natalia was in Steve’s suite, showing him how to operate the weird plasticky device known as a _tablet_.

“Back in my day, the only tablets that existed were white little things also known as pills that gave you your medicine,” Steve had quipped dryly, and Natalia had rolled her eyes good-naturedly, a smirk upon her lips.

“Well, apparently times have changed, so that is why I am here to get you all caught up, Rogers.” she had retorted, switching the tablet on.

Natalia was looking at him pointedly as he shook his head to clear it, focusing on what she was showing him now. “So, you see, this little red square with the white triangle in the centre – or “play video” symbol – is the thing you click on when you want to look at videos of cats, or want to look up a song you want to listen to, etcetera. The name, strangely, is YouTube. Don’t ask me why it is called this; I am not one of the people who came up with it.” she explained, one red-painted fingernail hovering over the application symbol.

Steve nodded, taking in her words. “Right. Okay. So it plays any video I want – even – movies?”

“Not quite, but good guess,” Natalia responded, looking at him with another little smirk. She pushed the tablet aside, shifting perceptibly closer to Steve. “Now, there are other things I can show you, to make sure you’re well-adjusted to this century.”

“Oh?” Steve raised his eyebrows, confused and slightly nervous by the sudden loss of distance between them. “And that would be what, exactly?”

“Well, Rogers,” Natalia’s voice had dropped, turning sultry, and her green eyes _gleamed_. “There are certain _things_ that every man must know, if he wants to get a woman to date him.”

Steve got the feeling that he didn’t like the implications of her words, and so he let her continue, not anticipating what would happen next _at all_.

One minute Natalia was looking at him with a coquettish smirk, and the next, she was leaning right against his chest, and her lips were on his, and she was _kissing him_.

Something rose up within Steve – memories mixed with warnings – and he growled, grabbing Natalia by the throat and tossing her across the room, where she landed against the far wall, crumpling like a paper doll with wide eyes and a hand at her neck. And then Steve was _moving_ , without a second’s thought, pinning Natalia by the throat up against the wall, his lips peeled in a snarl and his eyes dark with _rage_. “ _Get the hell out_ ,” he hissed, voice low and guttural and unlike him at all. He dropped Natalia, and she fled the room, not looking back.

And Steve, when she was gone, broke down, sobbing with great, heaving gasps for air in between, tears streaming down his cheeks.

_I hurt her_.


	5. Something Between Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Yay! I finally had a few ideas for this fic last night, so here's a new chapter for all of you to enjoy.  
> Things sure are happening between Natalia and Steve, eh? ;) I'll let you guys figure it out
> 
> Lyrics are from _Iris_ by Goo Goo Dolls

_And I'd give up forever to touch you  
_

_'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
_

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
_

_And I don't wanna go home right now_

As Natalia padded through the halls of the Tower, she heard the voice of a man singing, beautiful and full of emotion. She paused to listen, and found - surprisingly - that the singing was coming from Rogers' suite. "What kind of man were you once? What other secrets do you hide, soldier?" she muttered softly, crouching outside his open doorway, spying on him. Accompanying the singing were the chords of an acoustic guitar - well played, too.

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_A_ _nd all I can breathe is your life_

_When sooner or later it's over_

_I just don't wanna miss you tonight_

The song increased in emotion, and Natalia poked her head around the doorframe to see Rogers sitting Indian style on the couch, eyes closed, strumming an acoustic guitar and singing the words to a song that she didn't know. She decided to remain where she was, wanting to hear the rest of the lyrics.

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

 

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming_

_Or the moment of truth in your lies_

_When everything feels like the movies_

_Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive_

  
  
_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

  
  
_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

  
  
_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

  
  
_I just want you to know who I am_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_I just want you to know who I am_

 

When it was silent again, Natalia walked the full way into the suite and stood before him with a rare, genuine smile gracing her lips. "That was amazing, Rogers. Where did you learn to sing and play guitar like that?" She knew things had been tense between them ever since she'd kissed him, but she wanted to fix that. She hadn't meant to hurt him - she just didn't know what had overcome her then and caused her to kiss him. Maybe it was the way he looked at her. The way he seemed to trust her because of their similar pasts. Who knew? Either way, it had been a mistake - a terrible mistake - and one she longed to fix.

Steve glanced up at her, setting his guitar on the floor. He returned her question with one of his own, his eyes searching hers before scanning her over. "What are you doing here?" It wasn't a demand or an order - he simply wanted to know what she was doing in his suite.

Natalia shook her head, giving him a rueful smile, her red hair falling across her eyes. "I made a mistake, and I came here to fix it," Her body language told him that she was trying much harder than she usually did.

Steve stared at her with those soulful baby blue eyes of his, and then he glanced at his hands which were folded in his lap, ashamed. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, voice hoarse and cracking. "I just... When you kissed me... It was too much. Too raw, y'know?" He shook his head, looking back up at her again. "Sometimes... I like to think that maybe... if things were different... I would have let you continue. You just... You're the first person that's meant _something_ to me in a long time, and I wanna treasure that."

Natalia was silent for a few moments, taken aback. _I mean something to him. And... did he just say he wanted to let me continue kissing him? That's unexpected._ She tilted her head slightly, her green eyes studying him. "Rogers... did you really mean that? Because you know, that if you do, you're crossing a line." She smirked coyly, and added, "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

He gave her a small smile, leaning back and actually relaxing. "Yeah, of course I mean that, Romanov. I'm always honest." He shook his head, glancing down again. "To answer your earlier question - I actually taught myself to play guitar and sing. It... uh, it's a distraction. It helps me. Gave me somethin' to do. But I'm not that good."

"No, I actually think you were really good, Rogers. Don't put yourself down like that." Natalia scolded him, reaching out to put a hand on his cheek. He whimpered and leaned into her touch, and that's when it hit her. "Touch deprived..." she murmured softly, sadness in her eyes and an ache in her heart. _Wait... what's wrong with me? I don't feel... Why do I feel things? I don't understand... I'm the Black Widow... Black Widow does not feel... Black Widow does not love... Love is for children.... But Rogers is getting to me. Pull yourself together, Natalia!_

And then, a new voice in her head, quiet and calm, spoke.

_Let him in. Show him what it's like to love. Allow yourself to love._

_Help him heal._

_Love him._

Natalia dropped her hand as if she'd been burnt, and she glanced away, not wanting to look at Rogers' now questioning blue eyes. "Don't... Don't ask things you don't want to know the answers to, Rogers." she warned, shaking her head and backing away, leaving him alone in his suite.

* * *

Much to her chagrin, half an hour later found Natalia sitting in Rogers' lap, kissing him breathless. She was conflicted, but she knew more than anything else that she _wanted_ him. Desperately. She closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss, and it was only then that she felt Rogers start to stop.

"Natalia... Natalia, stop," Rogers pulled away from her, slightly out of breath. There was a flush on his cheeks, and a bright light in his eyes, but his body was stiff and tense once more. "We shouldn't be doing this. I don't... I don't want to hurt you again, and you don't need someone like me."

Natalia glanced down at her hands, leaning away from him slightly. "I know. I just... I want to help. You need _someone_ to help you heal... There's something between us, Rogers. And I don't know what to do about it. I thought this would work... just spending the night together. I know you're not like that, and I know you've got those memories... I just wanted to help." she explained quietly. She shook her head, and added, "I was wrong to think that I could feel something...." She slid off his lap, backing away, the walls going up. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's my fault, too. I just thought... maybe we could try to help each other heal. But it's just going to end up hurting us worse." Rogers just looked tired, his eyes dulled. "It's okay if you go. If you don't want to be friends."

"Friends, Rogers?" Natalia raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Do you really think that can work? Who do you want me to be?"

Rogers gave her a tight-lipped smile that didn't meet her eyes. "How 'bout a friend?"

Natalia scoffed, smirking at him in response. "There's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers," she drawled, "But I think I'd be willing to give it a go, for your sake. You're lonely, and you need someone with a shared life experience. Oh, and by the way... was that your first kiss since 1945?"

Rogers looked taken aback, his eyes widening with surprise, before he returned evenly, "That bad, huh?"

 _That wasn't what she was expecting_. "I didn't say that," she retorted. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying."

 _This is getting out of hand. What's he up to?_ "I didn't... I wasn't... I just wondered how much practice you've had." Natalia watched as his mood changed from confused to snarky and almost playful.

"You don't need practice." he replied.

"Everybody needs practice," she reminded him.

Finally, Rogers admitted, "That _was_ my first kiss since 1945. But I'm 94, I'm not dead."

Natalia laughed; light, breezy, and coy. "I can tell," she quipped, pausing in the doorway. "Goodnight, Rogers." She walked out of his suite, feeling a strange warmth in her chest as she heard his goodnight floating after her.


	6. Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Rated M for the first half of the chapter. If you don't like it, scroll down to the second page break and read from there.
> 
> Lyrics from _Into You_ by Ariana Grande

_I'm so into you, I can barely breathe_  
_And all I wanna do is to fall in deep_  
_But close ain't close enough 'til we cross the line, hey yeah_  
_So name a game to play, and I'll roll a dice, hey_  
  
  
_Oh, baby, look what you started_  
_The temperature's rising in here_  
_Is this gonna happen?_  
_Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move_  
_Before I make a move_

 

Steve padded into his bedroom dressed in loose trackpants and a plain shirt, intent on attempting to get an early night's sleep. However, he was in for a surprise when he peeled back the cover to find Natalia lying there, looking like she was waiting for him. "What the _hell_?" he exclaimed, taking a step back and putting a hand over his eyes when he saw that she was only wearing a sports bra and shorts. "Have some modesty, Romanov!"

"Rogers ... - Steve." Natalia had hopped off the bed, placing a hand on his chest, her other hand gently tugging his arm down. "It's okay. I... I want to show you."

"Show me _what_ , exactly?" Steve didn't let her tug his hand away from his eyes, taking a step back from her. "What's wrong with you? We're supposed to be friends. Friends don't... don't do _this_." He was confused, and flustered - because _damn_ was Natalia curvy. Sure, he knew that before, but with almost nothing on, he could see just how beautiful she was. Even with the two second glance that he'd spared her.

Natalia laughed, and this one seemed to be less fake; more teasing. "Oh, Rogers, there's still so much you have to learn about the 21st century. There's such thing as _friends with benefits_ , which are friends that do "this". It's perfectly normal."

Steve shook his head, his eyes closed since he'd dropped his hands to his sides. "I wanted to be friends, not friends with _benefits_. Geez, Romanov. Just... can you go, okay? Please? There's just... The memories... And I don't want to do this anyway. I'm not... I'm not ready for it." He took another step back, but was unable to suppress a groan as he felt Natalia press her lips to his in a fiery kiss, her hands clutching at the material of his t-shirt. "Don't-" he warned against her mouth, "Don't do this. _Please_." He was all but begging her now. Yet he could feel the walls between them falling, crashing down, as she pulled away, causing his eyes to open and bore into hers, and then she kissed him again, almost desperately.

"Come on, Rogers. We both need this, more than you'd realize. Don't fight it." she murmured, voice low and alluring. She kissed him again, and he slowly but surely gave in, letting her lead him onto the bed, lying down with her on top of him. "Shh. Don't panic. It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you." Her voice was more reassuring now, and he could see the truth in her jade green eyes as she gazed down at him. "I promise." He felt a sense of relief at her words, and he nodded mutely, unable to find his voice to respond. He let her take his shirt off, shivering as the cool air hit his bare skin.

Natalia straddled his hips, legs on either side, and leaned down so that her chest brushed his, kissing her abs and making her way up his chest. Steve let out a low noise of pleasure, his eyes closing. She was so gentle, which was unusual - she seemed so dangerous normally. "Natalia... Are you really sure about this?" he asked, opening his eyes. "Because if we do this, you know that there's no going back. Things are gonna change between us. Are you sure you'd be okay with that?"

"I'm sure. I'm okay with things changing between us." she said softly, caressing his cheek, and he leaned into her touch. "And you know what?"

"What?" he puzzled.

"We don't have to be friends with benefits... we can be lovers, which is better for the two of us. I think you'd find it easier." Natalia's hands roamed down his chest, and she leaned down to kiss him hungrily, her red hair falling around their faces as though it were a curtain to hide them. Steve grunted in assent, and then let out a low moan as she sat up a bit higher, rolling her hips against his.

* * *

Natalia showed Steve all the ways to make love to a person. Showed him how light or how hard to touch; how to be rough and how to be gentle. Where to kiss, and where to hold close. She taught him what made her respond to him, and what made her push him away.

Steve, in turn, showed Natalia how to love and be loved. He showed her how to take it too far, and how to take things slow. He bared his soul to her, and she to him.

They felt connected, and they knew now that nothing would tear them apart.

* * *

Steve and Natalia grew closer together than ever. They slept together often, and at least half the time, they were making love, seeking solace in one another, and finding that they were able to sleep better afterwards. And they started to blossom into the two young, vibrant people they were truly meant to be. Steve came back out of his shell, the bright young soldier from just after he'd become the world's first (and only) supersoldier emerging. He smiled more, joked around, and became a better leader.

And Natalia grew to be a beautiful young woman who loved and was loved by everyone in turn. Platonically, of course, save for Steve. Both of them now had romantic feelings towards one another, yet neither had gone so far to admit it just yet. She often was found making breakfast for the team - if Steve or Clint weren't doing so - or she would take to methodically and carefully cleaning the team's weapons - even going so far as to polish Stark's iron suits.

The pair were almost always touching in any way possible - whether it be Natalia resting her feet in Steve's lap, them holding hands as they made breakfast together (because yes, sometimes they did that), or even just briefly brushing shoulders as they passed each other in the hallway.

But one fateful day, they were torn apart - and neither knew if they would see the other again.

* * *

There had been an accident as Steve was driving with Natalia out to an ice cream parlour that he knew, when a car rammed into theirs from the side, causing it to roll over multiple times. Both of them were fairly unharmed from the incident - thankfully - but Steve had been taken away by people who came from the car that rammed them, leaving Natalia alone, her leg trapped under the dash.

She was soon freed by the paramedics twenty minutes later, and rushed off to the hospital for a check-up. But all she could think about was Steve. Where was he? Was he okay? Who took him, and why? Who hit them? Did someone want them dead?

Thankfully, Natalia only had a battered leg, which would heal just so long as she stayed off it as much as possible. And then she was told that she was nearly three months pregnant with Steve's baby, she cried with joy and fear for the first time in her life.


	7. I've Got You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Steve returns, and now Natalia has to tell him. How will that play out?
> 
> Also, a bit of M-rated content further on in the chapter.

Natalia stormed into the war room of Stark Tower the very next day, still making sure to keep her weight off her bad leg. "JARVIS, call up every single one of the Avengers. We're going to find Steve, and we're going to bring him home." she ordered, pulling up a holographic map of New York. She didn't care that the doctors had told them to stay off her leg for as much as possible; screw them and their damn orders! Nothing was going to stop her when it came to bringing Steve home. _Nothing_. He'd belonged to her ever since that night he'd bared his soul to her, and she knew that she belonged to him just as much... there was no way she was going to wait to bring him back to her! _That just wasn't possible!_

"Understood, Miss Romanov," JARVIS answered succinctly. It didn't take much longer for the team to gather in the war room - all of them - and for Natalia to explain _exactly_ what she wanted to happen, making it explicitly clear that her orders were to be followed. And to her surprise - and relief - not a single one of them objected.

* * *

Three days passed before they found Steve, and once they had a lock on his location, they stormed into the base, their intentions clear: kill anyone who gets in the way, and get to Steve. Natalia cut a path through each and every agent she came across, and gradually she slipped away from the others, stepping into a small side room where she knew they were keeping Steve.

And there he was.

On his knees, his arms chained up above his head, his chin hanging down to his chest. There were great red lines and cuts and welts and bruises all across his torso, arms, and back - she knew because they wrapped around his sides - and he was half-naked; wearing only a pair of tattered grey pants.

"Steve. Steve, baby, look at me." Natalia's words were a breathy murmur; a plea. She knelt before him, cupping his bruised and battered face in her hands and sweeping her thumbs across his cheeks in a tender motion. He gasped and moaned, trembling - in fear, it seemed - but he didn't pull away; didn't resist. She could see the fear in his eyes, and she shook her head, pressing a gentle, loving kiss to parted, chapped lips. "It's me, Steve. I'm here. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."

He spoke, finally, after five minutes of aching silence; a low rasp. "...Nat?" His head lolled forwards again, but she was holding him, and she pressed his face into her shoulder, combing her fingers through his messy and bloodied blonde hair.

"Yes, Steve, it's me. I'm here." She pressed another kiss to his lips, and he responded this time, a low hum coming from the back of his throat as he kissed her back. She smiled against his lips, slowly pulling away. "That's it. There you are."

"'Re you takin' me home?" His words were slurred now; he was tiring. She could tell that some kind of damage had been done to him; something that would set him back after all that healing she had done. She nodded, smiled, and brushed her lips across his forehead, causing him to sigh - but in relief. "Yes, Steve. Of course. That's where we're going. Home."

As strange and as foreign as that seemed, Stark Tower - soon to be Avengers Tower - was as close to home for them as it had ever been. And they were okay with that.

"Mmkay," Steve was really out of it now. "Y'c'n take me home." Natalia gave him a sad smile in response, kissing him once more.

* * *

Steve lay on the cot in the Quinjet, an arm resting over his abdomen. He had been patched up quickly and efficiently by Dr. Banner and that Wilson guy - _what was his name again? Sam... yes, that was it_ \- and he was half-asleep, Natalia running a hand through his hair as she perched on the edge of the cot, watching over him. She knew that she had to tell him _now_ , whilst he was still mostly cognizant, because she knew that once they got back to the Tower, he'd be out like a light. Although she was so nervous, she knew that she had to do this. "Steve?"

He blinked open his eyes, looking at her hazily and questioningly. "Mm, Natalia? Whatizzit? 'zzit important?"

She nodded, giving him a nervous smile. "Yes, Steve, this is _very_ important. You need to pay attention, okay?" That really grabbed his attention, because his eyes opened the whole way to _really_ look at her.

"Steve, I... I'm..." Natalia swallowed thickly, disdaining the nervousness she felt. "I'm pregnant. Which means that... we're going to have a baby. And I know that you're probably scared, because I certainly am... and I know that you might think that you can't do this - I certainly do - but together.... together I think we can do this. We have each other, and that's all that matters, right?" As she continued to speak, she grew more confident, somehow finding the right words to say. "And we _need_ this. It-... Our child - this unborn baby that I'm three months pregnant with - is something pure, and... and... and innocent... something we can cherish, protect... something we can _love_. And it's ours. Wholly ours. I just need to know if you're willing to do this with me. Are you? Because if you're not, then I'm leaving. And I'm never coming back." She could see the others looking at them, exchanging glances, but she didn't care. She _needed_ to say this. And if the others heard, then so what? Let them.

"Natalia, you're pregnant?" Steve's eyes filled with tears, and he looked _hopeful_. At her nod, he choked out a noise that was a funny mixture of a laugh and a sob, and stretched out an arm towards her, pulling her down to rest on his chest. "This is... _wow_. I can't believe it. And... it's really _all ours_?"

Natalia just pressed her lips to his in response, not bothering to speak.

* * *

In just a few days, Steve's body had mostly healed, and he was back to normal. But still, his mind occasionally wandered to dark places, and it took some coaxing to snap him out of it, which wasn't a good thing in Natalia's books. So, inevitably, that lead to now, with the two of them half-dressed, laying on Steve's bed, lazily yet passionately kissing each other.

 _Oh, for the love of... Come_ on, _Rogers, just get it on already! What are you waiting for?_ Natalia sighed, waiting for Steve to take things further as he so often did, but nothing happened. Letting out a huff of frustration, she leaned down and kissed him more hungrily and rubbed herself against him, causing him to groan. "There's my soldier," she murmured, splaying a hand across his chest. She let out a moan, feeling the electricity jump from his skin to hers as his hands danced up her sides to give her breasts a gentle squeeze.

And then, as he flipped them over and reverently kissed the scar over her hip, and next her small baby bump, it was in that moment that she realized that she _loved_ him. _Best not to say it now... it has to be perfect. It cannot just be a "heat of the moment" thing... he won't believe me. Bide your time; tell him when the moment is right_. She squirmed as his hands danced lightly; teasingly across her body, momentarily whimpering as his hands brushed over her ass. " _Steve_ ," she whined, hating it yet loving it when he teased her.

Steve gave her a mischievous, almost _wolfish_ grin in response, ducking his head down to kiss that tiny little scar right in between her breasts, causing her to moan and arch her back. "Damn you, Rogers," she breathed, staring up at him with sparkling green eyes. "This is your fault, you know."

"I know," He gave her that grin again, kissing her eagerly.

* * *

Hours later, laying atop Steve with her bare chest pressed against his own, Natalia gazed into his eyes, and that was all it took for her to come apart at the seams, crying. Tears streaked down her face as she cupped his cheeks and kissed him, whimpering against his lips, "I love you." She started to sob in earnest, pressing desperate little kisses all over his face, all the while repeating herself. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I _love you_!" She paused for a few moments to catch her breath, still crying, tracing circles on his cheek with her thumb.

The look in Steve's eyes was soft and tender; showing all the love he had for her. "I know, Natalia. I love you too." And with that, he kissed her, making love to her once more. Their souls became entwined, and this time, they were one.

* * *

Just a few nights after that, however, Steve had had a particularly bad nightmare in which he'd thrashed and cried out, lashing out at people that were just ghosts in his mind. At one point, one of his arms had swung out, catching Natalia across the midriff and sending her flying halfway across the bedroom, curled in on herself. Steve was horrified and apologetic at once, and he took her to the hospital immediately, profusely apologizing again and again as he drove.

Thankfully, their baby was unharmed - how, it seemed, no-one knew - and they'd gone back to their - because honestly, Natalia had been staying in a guest suite ever since she'd come to live at the Tower, and ever since she'd slept with Steve that first night, she'd practically moved in with him - suite to sleep for the rest of the night.

Steve had gone and slept on the couch, and Natalia grew tired of listening to him squirm and whimper, still being assailed by nightmares. _To hell with it_. She padded over to the couch, taking her shirt off and leaving her in only her bra and sleep shorts, and lay down on top of him underneath the blanket, squirming her way underneath his shirt until her head popped out the neckhole. She felt more than heard Steve sigh in relief at the skin-to-skin contact, and he relaxed underneath her.

"Shh, Steve. I promise you that you're never going to hurt me, because we love each other. That was just a nightmare - an accident - and nothing happened." she murmured soothingly, pressing her lips to his and snuggling against him, looping her arms around his neck.

He gave in, which was a relief, and kissed her forehead, nuzzling his cheek against hers. "Okay. I love you, Natalia."

Natalia smiled, closing her eyes. "I love you too, Steve. And... call me Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. This is a new life for me - a new start. Natalia was the girl that died in the Red Room; Natasha is the warrior who survived."

"Natasha Romanoff. Natasha. Hm. I like the sound of that." Steve tested the name out on his tongue, and he smiled tenderly at her, his own eyes closing. "G'night, Tasha." And with that, he was out like a light, sleeping contently. Natasha fell asleep moments after him, feeling - for the first time - at peace.


	8. Something Sorely Needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: In which Nat is bored and hormonal and Steve is trying to work  
> And other things

Steve sighed as his phone buzzed for what seemed like the hundredth time with a text from Natasha. Rolling his eyes, he unlocked his phone and checked the message.

 _NR_ \- _like this? [attachment.jpg]_

Of course she just _had_ to send a picture of herself wearing a leotard and tutu. Because the leotard hugged her curves, and Natasha seemed to know that it would set Steve off. _You're determined, I'll give you that_ he thought wryly. He sighed and sent her a reply.

_SR - pls stop textn me i kno ur bored but im workin_

_NR - *heart emoji* you know you love me_

_SR - Nat quit txtn me_

_\- and no more pics of urself pls it's not fair_

_NR - *wink emoji* come and get me, soldier boy_

_SR - Nat no im workin. do u not understand that_

_NR - Of course I do. But I'm bored and lonely and I need some lovin_

_SR - so help me i'll turn off my phone  
_

_NR - You wouldn't dare, Rogers_

_SR - try me. im turnin it off now_

_NR - Steeeeeve_

_SR - r u srsly whinin thru txt?_

_NR - You bet I am *wink emoji*_

_SR - turnin phone off now_

Huffing out a long, breathy sigh, Steve switched off his phone, and went back to sorting the files on his desk. Five minutes later, however, he was rather rudely interrupted by JARVIS announcing, "Captain Rogers, Miss Romanov requests your presence in the training room. I suggest you head there immediately - as per her demand."

"Thanks, JARVIS," Steve took the elevator to the training room, cursing under his breath. _What could she possibly want me for_ now _?_ He couldn't help but shake his head and smile at Natasha's newfound love of text-bombing him whenever she was bored and wanted his attention. It was actually kind of cute. Except for when he was _trying_ to sort through some files on the team. _Trying_ being the operative word. He entered the training room once the elevator stopped and its doors opened, and he glanced around, wondering where Natasha could be. "Where are ya, babygirl?" he called, hoping to find her quick so that he could get this over and done with and get back to doing paperwork.

"Over here," He heard Natasha's voice and it sounded like she was at the far end of the training room. Steve sighed again and jogged to where she was, discovering that she looked even _more_ beautiful now that he saw her wearing the leotard and tutu up close instead of just in a picture. "Did you need me for somethin'? Like I said, I'm kinda busy." he asked seriously, unable to help himself from looking her over.

She noticed, obviously, because she gave him a coy smirk, before replying, "Of course I did. I wanted to show you... I wanted to dance for you." _That_ wasn't what Steve was expecting. Not at all whatsoever. He stared at her in a sort of stupefied silence, before giving her a small smile and a nod. Natasha smiled back at him, her jade green eyes soft, and then she hit play on the music, dancing as soon as it came to life.

And Steve watched her, absolutely captivated.

She was lithe and swift and beautiful; and she was enchanting to watch. She floated in time with the music; leaping and spinning and twirling. Jetés and pliés and arabesques and other fancy moves that he couldn't give name to - dizzying and spectacular. All one blur of fiery hair, black leotard, crimson tutu and pink shoes. She was.... well, there was almost no words to describe her - that was how captivated Steve was as he watched her dance. And finally, when it was over, she bowed and looked up at him with a small smile, her cheeks aflame with excitement, green eyes glinting. She seemed as if she were waiting for something, and so he clapped - four times - just for her.  


"My ballerina," he murmured, as he pulled her closer to him for a hug. Sure, she was sweaty and a little breathless, but neither minded.

* * *

"What do you think of all of this?"  


"Eh, it is not so bad. It is very... flashy."

"I do prefer it simple,"

Two young, heavily accented voices accompanied two sets of footsteps walking towards the common room. Steve glanced up from the table, looking over his shoulder and relaxing when he saw that it was only Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, the Sokovian twins that the team had taken in when they were rescuing him from the base. Apparently Loki's scepter had given them... powers... and HYDRA was trying to control them - the Enhanced, they were called. The twins were still young - early twenties, Steve guessed - and their desire for revenge had burned strong within them. However, they also didn't quite appreciate the way that they were being treated and so, even though the source of their hatred was one of the ones taking them in, they were quite agreeable to accept Steve's offer of solace and a permanent home at Stark - now Avengers - Tower. 

"Pietro, Wanda," Steve greeted the twins, still trying to sort through the stack of files. "Did you two sleep okay? Settling in nicely and all?"

Wanda, the more open, friendly twin (and also the younger by twelve minutes, thanks to Pietro _constantly_ repeating that, much to Wanda's chagrin), gave Steve a smile and a nod as she took a seat at the kitchen island. "Yes... although as I was saying to Pietro, I prefer things to be more simple. This is all..."

"Bright and loud and generally screaming _Stark_?" Steve asked dryly, although he gave the girl a wry grin.

Pietro shrugged and sat beside his sister. He was a little more closed off; although both of them had warmed up to Steve and Natasha faster than anyone else. "Something like that. We are just not used to all of this. We grew up poor."

Steve dipped his head in a nod, understanding where the twins were coming from. "Yeah," he agreed, "I don't really like it either. It's just too expensive and fancy and all... Every time I worry I'm gonna break somethin' because of my enhanced strength. Sometimes not knowing your own strength sucks. And I grew up during the Great Depression, so all of this... it's just over the top."  


Wanda tilted her head slightly. "I knew that you served in the Second World War, and that you grew up poor, but I did not know you grew up during the Great Depression."

He gave the younger Maximoff a small smile with a hidden meaning behind it. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me... and some things that you may not care to learn."

"One of the things you may not know is that I'm Steve's girlfriend," Natasha had popped up behind Steve seemingly out of thin air, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "And we're going to have a baby." She announced that so proudly, as if she wasn't ashamed and there was nothing to hide. And it was true; there wasn't anything to hide. But Steve and Natasha had never talked about revealing the fact that they were dating, and going to have a baby... never talked about the fear of getting teased. And so Natasha had simply gone and told everyone, much to their surprise, and she announced it with pride - a glow in her eyes and a smile playing at her lips.

"That seems like something you both sorely need," Wanda quietly observed, her eyes flashing red for a few moments.

Natasha kissed Steve's cheek, giving the girl a smile. "Yes, that's quite true. Both of us just as much as the other needed this... needed each other. You two look like something's missing, though. Orphaned at how old?"

Pietro, having spoken barely a word up until now, began the tale. "We were ten years old, having dinner, the four of us. When the first shell hits, two floors below, it makes a hole in the floor. It's big. Our parents go in, and the whole building starts coming apart. I grab her, roll under the bed and the second shell hits. But, it doesn't go off. It just... sits there in the rubble, three feet from our faces. And on the side of the shell is painted one word..."

Wanda, looking angry, filled in, "Stark."

Pietro shook his head, his blue eyes flashing with a mixture of emotions. "We were trapped for two days." He glanced at his sister, who finished their tale.

"Every effort to save us, every shift in the bricks, I think, "This will set it off." We wait, for two days, for Tony Stark to kill us." Wanda now stood beside her brother, and both of them looked deeply... disturbed. That was the only way to describe it. Wanda was quivering with energy, and Pietro's glare was almost _murderous_ , but there was also pain in their eyes. So much pain.

Steve felt his heart ache at their expressions, because he knew, at one point in time, that he'd looked like that. Angry. Seeking revenge. Feeling lost and alone. He shook his head, and stood up, gently pushing Natasha away from him and tucking her against his side instead. "I'm sorry about that," he said quietly. He knew that it wouldn't sate their desire for revenge - not for a long time - but to hear that... perhaps it was something that _they_ sorely needed, just as Steve and Natasha sorely needed each other and their unborn child.

"Thankyou. Even though it is not much... thankyou." Wanda said quietly, Pietro nodding in agreement.


	9. Desperate Struggle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I'm sorry. All the angst and feels. Steve's in a really, really dark place.
> 
> Warnings for brief mentions of self-harm. Doesn't go into too much detail, but I thought I'd put the warning anyway

_Two months later_

 

Natasha sighed softly, running a hand through Steve's hair and watching over him as he slept. "Poor baby," she murmured, "I can only imagine what you've gone through at the hands of HYDRA." She had been through hell herself, but not like Steve. She had been raised in that kind of environment; Steve had been captured and tortured. And now his great, pure heart was scarred by one of the darkest kinds of evil in existence.

She lay beside him on the king bed in his suite, one arm draped over the pregnant swell of her stomach, and the other was constantly moving; gently and comfortingly touching Steve in one way or another. He needed it now more than ever.

Especially after what she had caught him doing earlier that evening...

* * *

 _The redhead padded into the bathroom, getting herself ready for bed earlier than usual because she was sleepy and didn't want to stay on her feet for too much longer. Her tired, aching feet. Damn this pregnancy. Sure, she was ecstatic about having a baby, but_ boy _was she so not ready for all the niggly bits that went along with it._

 _Sore feet being one of the more_ minor _inconveniences._

 _What she saw made her stop in her tracks, one hand flying up to cover parted, trembling lips. There was so much_ _blood. All over the white tiles, white walls, the shower, the bath, the sink... She looked around with widened eyes, wondering what on_ earth _had happened to the bathroom, when she saw the head of dirty blonde hair that was bowed, and there was Steve, cowering in the bathtub._

 _"_  боже мой _," Natasha whispered, staring at her boyfriend with eyes like saucers. He was absolutely_ covered _in blood - how he wasn't passed out or half dead, she didn't know. "JARVIS, discreetly tell Sam and Thor and tell them to come to the bathroom on Steve's floor. And tell them to hurry - please!" Her voice trembled as she spoke, and when she crouched down beside the bathtub and cupped Steve's face in her palms, her eyes flooded with tears. He looked like he wasn't even there._

_"Steve, come back to me, please..." she whimpered, pressing her lips to his forehead, not caring about the blood at all, her eyes falling closed. "Speak to me, baby. Say something. Anything."_

_"S-Something," Steve slurred, looking at her with hazy eyes, and Natasha couldn't help but let out a gasping laugh, pressing her lips to his, not wanting to let him go even for a second lest he slip into the darkness. She knew something was wrong... he wasn't telling her everything, and that sent a stab of pain to her gut which she brushed aside for now. It wasn't the time to deal with_ why _he had done this; he needed to be patched up and in bed first._

_The redhead sagged in relief when she heard Thor's heavy footsteps and Sam's lighter ones, before she turned around to greet them. "I'll explain in a minute... Thor, please pick up Steve and try to support him when you place him in the bedroom. Sam, please fetch the medkit. I'm going to grab a washcloth and some clean clothes." The two men nodded, although she felt Sam's worried eyes on her more often than not._

_In just under twenty minutes, Steve was cleaned up and in fresh clothes, and Natasha and Sam were doing the finishing touches on patching him up, whilst Thor paced nearby, looking surprisingly concerned. "So... what happened? You said you'd explain in a minute..." Wilson was looking up at her now, his expression expectant._

_Natasha bit her lip, pausing in her work with one hand lightly resting on her boyfriend's chest. "I don't exactly know what happened, but ... I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed and just ... found him like that." She swallowed, glancing up at the ceiling. "He wasn't even there. He only spoke after I begged him... and even then, he just said "something"."_

_"I'd say he's struggling to come to terms with everything that's happened recently, and it's overwhelmed him, so he turned to this because he thought it would help." Sam guessed._

_"That's kind of what I was thinking," Natasha agreed softly, staring down at her boyfriend's face before looking up at Sam and Thor again. "Thankyou, guys. I'll take care of him; try and get him to open up. No matter what,_ please _don't tell any of the others about this. Especially not Stark. I don't want anybody else to know he's suffering this much... I trust you two more than anyone else besides Steve on this team."_

_Sam and Thor nodded and promised they'd keep it a secret, before leaving Steve's quarters, silence taking their place._

* * *

It hadn't been good. Now Natasha kept a watchful eye over the supersoldier, making sure he didn't try anything funny again. He'd been asleep since Sam and Thor left, having passed out from sheer exhaustion not long before he was placed on the bed. At least he was peaceful now; no more pain.

She shifted positions slightly, wincing in discomfort when the baby kicked her particularly hard, and she rubbed her stomach, sighing softly. "Not now, baby, please stay quiet. Daddy's not feeling too good and I need to help him, but I can't when you're kicking me, okay?" she murmured, closing her eyes in relief when the baby didn't kick her again.

"Сон сейчас, малышка." she whispered, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

To her horror, just a few days later, it was happening all over again. But this time, Natasha caught Steve  _just_ as he was about to do it. She yanked the knife from his rather weak grip and tossed it aside before crouching down in front of him, lightly slapping his cheek to get him to focus. "Steve, you need to stop this.  _Please_." She stared at him, her green eyes searching his face for any signs that showed he was responding.

"Nat..." Her name tumbled past his lips as a whimper. His soulful baby blue eyes begged - no,  _pleaded_ \- with her to do  _something_.  _Anything_. "S-Save me... Pull me out of the darkness I feel clawing at my heart.  _Please._ Please!"

Natasha felt her heart crumble, and she opened out her arms, inviting him closer. "Oh, baby... come here," she whispered, and Steve collapsed into the awkward embrace, sobbing. "Shh, baby, it's okay. It's alright. I'm here. I'm here. I'll never let the darkness touch you again. I promise, моя любовь."

"Я твой. Я твой." Steve buried his face into the crook of her neck, whispering it over and over. "Я твой."

"Yes, love. Ты мой. Ты мой и Я твоя." Natasha kissed his forehead, one hand rubbing slow circles on his back. "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Russian translations-  
> боже мой = Oh my gosh  
> Сон сейчас, малышка = Sleep now, little one  
> моя любовь = my love  
> Я твой = I'm yours  
> Ты мой = You're mine  
> Ты мой и Я твоя = You're mine and I am yours


End file.
